Call of the Highland Moon (The MacInnes Werewolves #1)
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Somewhere between rearranging the boxes on the shelves in Carly’s stockroom (he refused to call it tossing them around, as he’d been accused of when Carly had discovered what he’d been up to, although he was almost certain nothing in those boxes had been breakable) and arriving back at her dark, warm little house, Gideon’s temper had cooled off. Some of it may have been due to the subzero temperature of Regan’s van on the short drive home, but Gideon suspected most of it was because he’d finally figured out who he was really angry at, and it wasn’t Carly.
Had he ever made such an ass out of himself for a woman? Oh, he could blame her all he liked, Gideon thought irritably as he followed his unusually quiet hostess into the house, watched her flip on the lights as she avoided looking at him, speaking to him, or otherwise acknowledging his presence. But he’d been a willing participant in the daylong debacle at her little shop, lifting things for women who pretended to be helpless, indulging them when they flirted with him, ignoring it when they were ogling him and giving running commentary on his physique to one another in stage whispers.
And it might have been amusing, really … he didn’t think he’d ever had so many females tripping over themselves for his company, and any man would have been hard-pressed to mind. Except that no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, her wanting him to stay and help her for the day hadn’t contained one single expectation that he would dash about at her heels like an eager puppy for the better part of it, trying to please her customers and friends just so he could see a hint of those lovely dimples winking at him from across the room. No, he had done the latter part himself, after he’d sworn he’d never make a fool out of himself for any woman. Ever. And the fact that the whole thing had been preceded by his nearly mauling her only made the whole thing worse, in his mind.
Gideon hung back and watched her click into the kitchen on her sexy little kitten heels, fixated on the way her simple, wide-legged gray slacks and emerald sweater clung to the ripe curve of her bottom, the swell of her breasts with every move she made. Even now he could only feel like a predator whenever he was near her, his nostrils full of her scent, his fingers curled into his palms so that they couldn’t reach, grab, caress the way they wanted to. He was a man who valued his control, and it was rapidly deserting him where Carly Silver was concerned.
She knew he was watching her, he saw from the way she nibbled at her full bottom lip, the way she always did when she was nervous. Still, he knew she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of telling him to stop. Which was good, because Gideon had no intention of stopping in any case. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to twist her tail just a bit, particularly since she’d agreed they should be together at all times … well, outside her place of employment, Gideon amended. He’d had just about enough of that to last ten lifetimes, and truly, the hordes of chatty women milling about that place would frighten off the most determined attacker even in blackest midnight.
But still, the rest of the time, she was his. That made locking him out again a bit difficult, didn’t it? And a good thing, too, Gideon decided, because he was finding out that beneath her collected exterior there was quite a bit of fire, if you knew where to poke to bring it out. Gideon smiled to himself at the memory of her with her finger poking into his chest, chastising him for “manhandling her inventory,” as she put it, while the big, innocent blue eyes that had so ensnared him blazed so brightly they did everything but turn red and shoot flames. He’d never had a woman give him hell like that before.
It bothered him a bit that he seemed to like it.
She lifted one pale eyebrow, glanced quickly at him before continuing to rummage through the cupboard she’d opened. “It’s not like you need my permission to go places. I’ll be safe at work. Go for it.”
“Ah, but it’s a bit out of the way. A bit far for me to leave you here unattended.” He tried to look serious as her eyes shot back up, still spitting sparks from earlier.
“Well, I have to work. If you want me to come, I guess you’re going to have to wait.”
Gideon bent to unlace his boots so that he could toe them off, moving slowly and unconcernedly. “That’s not very convenient, though, as there are some things I need, considering. Why don’t you just go in a bit late?”
Gideon hid his smile when he heard the cupboard slam. “You know, it isn’t actually very convenient for me to have one big, smelly werewolf imposing on me at home while I’m being stalked by another one … who, as we both know, wouldn’t even be anywhere near my personal space if it weren’t for big, smelly werewolf number one … so no, I think you can wait until after I’m done working. You know, at that place with the books that now probably all have footprints on them.”
Gideon cocked his head, considered her for a moment. Her lips were pursed, her hands were on her hips, her hair was starting to come loose from its tie again. She looked like a very angry, very sexy schoolteacher.
Mission accomplished.
“I should be happy.” She inhaled with a soft hiss, then slapped her hands down on the counter and glared at him over the breakfast bar. “You know what? I am happy. I’m so frigging overjoyed, in fact, that to show my gratitude for what you have brought into my life, I am letting you make us dinner. I, on the other hand, am going to go enjoy a shower.” She glared at him, tossed her head, and swept her arm across the kitchen. “Have fun.”
Carly stalked off past him down the hallway, and after a moment, he heard the bathroom door slam. He started chuckling, even as he shook his head. He really shouldn’t have pushed her after the way she’d gone after him about her books, but she was so damned beautiful when she was worked up. And, he could admit to himself as he wandered into the small kitchen, it seemed that working her up this way was a lot safer than working her up the
way he had initially done that morning.
Though he supposed he did owe her dinner.
Gideon opened one neatly organized cupboard, staring at the small bottles of spices blankly. The kitchen had never been his natural habitat. Iargail had its own cook, his cousin Harriet, and the only thing he’d ever spent much time doing in their kitchen was quietly hunting for Harriet’s carefully hidden sweets, or pilfering the leftovers. He’d been good at that. Actually making something on his own, however, was another story.
On a hunch, he went to the refrigerator, felt on top of it. When his hand closed on the paper-clipped sheaf of papers, Gideon knew he’d hit the jackpot. As he pulled down the small stack of take-out menus and began to thumb through them, he listened to the water running in the bathroom and imagined Carly in there, the water running over the curves he couldn’t seem to be able to keep his mind off of. He had a problem, and he knew it. He ought to be working on the Malachi situation, ought to be actively hunting for his would-be assassins, trying to either find them or draw them out … something proactive. Which reminded him, he also needed to check Carly’s messages for anything from Gabriel. But he’d spent his day staring at Carly instead, and he was still having a difficult time working up any remorse about it.
Some of it might be overconfidence on his part, he supposed. Being ripped apart by his hunters never entered his mind as a possibility. He was strong, he was well trained. Next time, they wouldn’t even be able to limp away. He would be ready. And it was true, it was better for Carly to be watched, to be near him, at all times until they showed themselves so he could get rid of them. But there was more.
And he was completely crazy about her.
Gideon froze as it hit him fully, his heart expanding painfully at the realization. He barely noticed as the menu crumpled in his hand, then fell to the floor.
The fact that he’d clicked with her on some primal level, well, he could almost deal with that. Almost. Even though it meant that as far as finding a permanent partner went, it was either Carly or no one. That was his biology. He wasn’t the first MacInnes Wolf to bond with an unsuitable partner, and he wouldn’t be the last. But he hadn’t expected to feel so much beyond the expected desire for her, or to feel even that desire on so many levels. At every turn Carly Silver had surprised him, charmed him, intrigued him. Until he knew she was a woman he could happily spend a lifetime discovering.
Gideon slid his hands into his hair, tugged to try and get his brain functioning again. Coming here, it seemed, was the mistake that kept on giving, and he was starting to feel like he was more than a little in over his head. Two days with Carly, and everything was hearts and flowers. He was being stalked, and all he could seem to think of was playing house! The elders had always warned him it would be fast, but this was madness. And the distinct possibility, hell, the probability that Carly was feeling it too … he needed to finish this and leave. He needed time and space to sort out what to do about Carly, if anything, once Malachi and his friends had been dealt with. Because the longer he stayed, the harder it was going to be to just walk away and not look back, which was what he was going to need to do. Probably. He thought.
Christ.
Gideon picked up the menu to smooth it, then called in the order to the little Chinese place just off of Main he’d seen on their way back this evening. Thanks to the plows and the fact that the snow was only falling lightly and intermittently, they were, thank God, delivering. Carly also had a tab with them, which was fortunate since he didn’t really want to have to beg her for money as well as her car. He had plenty of money, just not on him. But this way, he could stop and pay tomorrow.